“Accursed tree!” cried the chief justice, gnashing his teeth; for anger overcame his sorrow. “Would that thou hadst been left standing till Hancock, Adams, and every other traitor, were hanged upon thy branches! Then fitly mightest thou have been hewn down and cast into the flames.”
He turned back, hurried to Long Wharf without looking behind him, embarked with the British troops for Halifax, and never saw his country more. Throughout the remainder of his days Chief Justice Oliver was agitated with those same conflicting emotions that had tortured him while taking his farewell walk through the streets of Boston. Deep love and fierce resentment burned in one flame within his breast, Anathemas struggled with benedictions. He felt as if one breath of his native air would renew his life, yet would have died rather than breathe the same air with rebels. And such likewise were the feelings of the other exiles, a thousand in number, who departed with the British army. Were they not the most unfortunate of men?
“The misfortunes of those exiled tories,” observed Laurence, “must have made them think of the poor exiles of Acadia.”
“They had a sad time of it, I suppose,” said Charley. “But I choose to rejoice with the patriots, rather than be sorrowful with the tories. Grandfather, what did General Washington do now?”
“As the rear of the British army embarked from the wharf,” replied Grandfather, “General Washington’s troops marched over the Neck, through the fortification gates, and entered Boston in triumph. And now, for the first time since the Pilgrims landed, Massachusetts was free from the dominion of England. May she never again be subjected to foreign rule,—never again feel the rod of oppression!”
“Dear Grandfather,” asked little Alice, “did General Washington bring our chair back to Boston?”
“I know not how long the chair remained at Cambridge,” said Grandfather. “Had it stayed there till this time, it could not have found a better or more appropriate shelter, The mansion which General Washington occupied is still standing, and his apartments have since been tenanted by several eminent men. Governor Everett, while a professor in the University, resided there. So at an after period did Mr. Sparks, whose invaluable labors have connected his name with the immortality of Washington. And at this very time a venerable friend and contemporary of your Grandfather, after long pilgrimages beyond the sea, has set up his staff of rest at Washington’s headquarters.”
“You mean Professor Longfellow, Grandfather,” said Laurence. “Oh, how I should love to see the author of those beautiful Voices of the Night!”
“We will visit him next summer,” answered Grandfather, “and take Clara and little Alice with us,—and Charley, too, if he will be quiet.”